


Claimed

by periodicallypyrrhic88



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2
Genre: Angst, Dominant Hawke, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Purple Hawke, Rediscovering feelings, Separation, Smut, reunion piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periodicallypyrrhic88/pseuds/periodicallypyrrhic88
Summary: Hawke is unsure of how to touch Fenris for the first time again, and decides to take a different approach and make him aware of what he means to him with this chance.





	Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> Garrett Hawke/Fenris is one of my all time favorite ships, and I missed them so much I had to type this. Takes place during their first time having sex after Fenris leaves Hawke due to his personal issues, with both of them never having stopped having feelings for each other, basically both of them pining over each other the entire time they weren't together romantically. Total porn with feelings.

Hawke had been so nervous to touch Fenris for the first time again. You would have thought he had never lay with another man before, period, let alone with one who he had shared bodies with before, even though that felt like a lifetime ago. His hand almost trembled when he ghosted the tips of his fingers down brown skin, following the faintly glowing blue line that started at Fenris’s chin and flowed down his neck, feathering out in beautiful whisps where it lined his sternum and parted his ribcage, as if this were the first time he had seen them. At the light touch, the elf let out a small gasp, his lean muscles flexing just slightly under the skin stretched taut across them, and it made Hawke think that perhaps he felt the same. Familiar, but new.

Hawke had never been nervous with lovers before. Not that he had bedded enough to boast about, not that he was much of a boaster anyway, but it had been evident from adolescence that his confidence and sometimes cockiness had done most of the work for him, his fingers steady and sure as they’d undone leather belts or unbuttoned shirts, pressing kisses to already parted lips. He’d had no trouble in making those boys writhe beneath him in no time, with firm grips and slow hips. 

But with Fenris, he was something close to terrified.

Terrified he’d touch him the wrong way, terrified he’d leave again.

He had never held no grudge against Fenris. How could he have? The elf had only shared small pieces of what life in Tevinter had entailed for him, including the ritual that had given him the markings that turned him into a living weapon. Nothing he had heard exactly sounded savory.

To think of what he knew he endured made a bitter taste rise to the back of his throat, made his actual heart burn with an anger he hadn't felt before Fenris. Those feelings that swelled within him now were swallowed back down as the elf suddenly put a hand to the side of Hawke’s face, pulling him in close for a deep kiss. Hawke acquiesced to the smaller man completely, almost draping his body atop his where they lay. He wedged a knee between Fenris’s thighs, applying a pressure where he knew he wanted it most.

He was rewarded when a small moan fell from Fenris’s lips, his hips unconsciously rocking forward into the touch, in an attempt to create more pressure. The elf was down to only the leggings he usually wore, while Hawke was still clothed, armor and all. He had just returned from whatever the hell a day’s work in Kirkwall entailed for that particular day, only to find Fenris awaiting him in his quarters, clad in his skin-tight clothing, big green eyes finding him as he turned his way.

Hawke’s heart had stopped.

In no time things had escalated, with Hawke actually pushing Fenris against the wall of his bedroom and pinning him there before he had even known what he was doing. He had picked him up before he could think about it, setting him on the bed perhaps a bit rougher than he’d intended and crawling atop him. He was ready, almost aching to reclaim what he’d lost, mind, body and soul. He would take whatever pieces of Fenris he offered, and fix whatever others he could. He had always been willing to.

He had not taken the loss of Fenris by his side as something a bit more very well, though he had done quite an alright job of hiding it. Everyday life in the stone slab of Kirkwall had become even more hectic than usual, so most of his friends found themselves just as busy as he had these days. He had no doubt that Aveline would have noticed if she had been around, but Hawke knew she in particular was just as busy as he and the thought of storming the Viscount’s Keep to hunt down one of the highest ranking officers in the office to lament his woes of a broken heart to someone he had seemed to drift from as a friend anyway, simply by distance alone, made him want to immediately start drinking. Which is exactly what he did with Varric when he hadn't been able to pull the wool over his eyes, and had immediately led him to the Hanged Man to talk about it. They did so several times, with more than a few drinks, and although the uncanny dwarf’s company always helped, the relief it provided from the pangs he felt in his chest were always temporary, and hurt more come morning.

Hawke had felt a bit dramatic at first. It wasn't as if he never saw Fenris, not like he was being erased from his life completely. In fact, to Hawke’s surprise, the elf had continually chosen to accompany him on his many trysts around the city-state, as thought time had been rewinded, or perhaps altered to exclude the more intimate relations they had shared, only to carry on with business as usual.

Hawke had hated that, but it had been better than losing him completely, to not have him by his side at all.

It hadn't been too difficult to find distractions around the city. It hasn't ever been hard to keep himself busy, never had been, since the day he had first stepped foot in Kirkwall as nothing but a foreign refugee. Now, everyone seemed to look to him first when a problem arose, from the belly of the chokedamp in Lowtown all the way to the highest corner of the Viscount’s keep, everybody's line of sight unified on him until it burned and he felt it everywhere he went. When he was just a boy, he’d been kidding that trouble found him, not the other way around--now it was all but a way of life. Still, he always did what he could, and more, and over time when the elf accompanied him on his journeys, Hawke could almost feel as though everything were alright.

Coming home to a cold bed each night always reminded him that they weren't.

It had been so long since Fenris’s small, lithe, beautiful body had occupied a small space in his bed, warming it right back up again as if he’d never left. It had been why he had been so scared, at first-- he hadn't wanted him to go, leave that imprint of himself again with nothing else there for him to hold. But whereas Hawke had felt nervous only moments before, a familiar feeling began to creep in to replace it; one that made his heart pound harder and even ache a little, one that made him dip his head down low and claim Fenris in a fierce kiss as he began to work the elf out of his leggings. The elf moaned into the kiss, and once he was completely bare Hawke slid his arms under him to hoist him upon his lap so that Fenris was straddling him, knees stretched over Hawke’s thighs, causing the head if his cock, erect between his legs, to graze just so over the rough fabric of Hawke’s trousers. He let out a gasp that turned into a pleading sort of whimper and glanced up to see Hawke gazing right at him, locking eyes with each other. Hawke’s shone almost dangerously in the low light of the embers burning in the fireplace that illuminated the room with a hazy glow, shadows dancing about. Still, Fenris knew it was a good danger, the only kind he knew he could give himself unconditionally to.

He began to grind his hips down into the hardness he could just feel through Hawke’s trousers. He was desperate for friction, unwilling to reach down and touch himself in the way he needed, years of being a slave having made it very easy to ignore his own pleasure. He whined a little, placing small hands on Hawke’s armored shoulders for extra leverage, and something within the larger man stirred. Those hands may have been small, but they both knew were just teeming with raw power deep within. He wanted Fenris to know that he knew what he was capable of, that he respected it, even sometimes feared it a little. He wanted him to know he was completely in control, anytime he was by his side, through anything. 

Hawke only settled back, placing his hands on each of Fenris’s thighs and watching as he continued. The elf’s knees spread even further, markings growing a bit brighter as the elf felt the swell of the human’s cock against his ass, such a thin barrier of cloth all that separated them from being together again. 

Hawke had wanted to take his time, wanted to enjoy the way Fenris squirmed atop him, the tip of his cock beading and his lean muscles flexing as he tried to take some pleasure. Wanted to, but the heat that pooled low in his belly urged him to begin the motions that would soon enable him to be able to take what was his. 

He claimed Fenris’s mouth hungrily again, this time sliding two fingers between the elf’s lips once he pulled away. Fenris’s mouth was already wet and soft as he closed his mouth around the fingers, the warmth and general feel of his mouth suctioning his flesh enough to make Hawke buck his lips up sharply, letting out a low, soft moan himself. He removed his fingers slowly, dragging a thumb over his lip before he reached over with a free hand to grab the oil from the bedside drawer. He had to fumble for it, a bit--he hadn't used it since he and Fenris had last laid together. Once he had it, though, he unstoppered the cork with his teeth and spat it out on the floor before he coated the fingers already wet with saliva and brought them under and up upon Fenris, the pads of the fingers rubbing across his entrance in a sort of tease. His other hand went to rest on the globe of Fenris’s round ass, squeezing before pulling back to slap it sharply, relishing in the sound it pulled from Fenris as the elf brought his hands from his shoulders to wrap around his neck instead, back arching and affording Hawke even more access. 

The human’s cock twitched in its confines when Fenris actually tried to push down on his fingers, trying to get them inside him. He let out something close to a mewl as he looked into Hawke’s face, eyes pleading. “Hawke, I can’t… you've teased enough,” the elf managed, probably meaning to sound irritated but the tone of his voice going straight to Hawke’s member instead. He reached his free hand out to bring to Fenris’s neck, pulling their bodies apart, fingers curling around the slender bones and palm pressed against the lyrium branded there. His grip was firm to hold him in place and also balance him, so that he couldn't press down when he began to slide his oiled fingers into him, tantalizingly slow, pleased at the way the elf’s cock jumped at the intrusion. His body was so pliant, so lean, so perfect to him. He pushed his fingers up to the first knuckle, letting Fenris whine desperately for a few moments before pushing them in a bit further. That combined with both the ferocity of Hawke’s gaze and the strength of his grip was enough to make Fenris almost wanton with lust. It was like being claimed in a way he had not yet experienced, one that was hungry for more than just what he could offer them either as a living weapon or a sex object. This sort of possession wanted his very soul, with sex serving as only an extension of a way for their bodies to communicate, another way for them to know each other. 

Fenris gasped as the fingers around his throat flexed before pulling away, leaving the elf short of breath and moaning loudly as the rest of his weight fell upon Hawke’s fingers, taking the entirety of the thick digits suddenly. He barely gave the elf time to adjust before he began pumping them in and out, watching so closely as the elf cried out in the night.

This was a side of Hawke he had yet to have seen before, something he hadn't seen even years ago. This was not the Hawke that spent most of his free time in the tavern, his affinity for sarcasm, making jokes and solving everybody else's problems but his own fast earning him popularity among almost everybody in the city. His presence had not only come to be expected wherever he went, but also welcomed, greatly. That Hawke was cocky, he was friendly and calm, but firm and fierce when he had to be and known to most.

This also wasn't the version of Hawke he had known as a lover, who had been so kind, so patient and so heart-breakingly gentle with Fenris when they had first laid together. That had been too much, and Fenris had fallen back upon his instinct to do what he seemed always to do--run. 

It had been years but his feelings for the human man hadn't changed, hadn't even wavered. Despite him being a mage, despite the fact he sometimes made choices Fenris felt compelled to speak out against as questionable, even wrong in his eyes, sometimes his harsh criticisms of magic causing a temporary disarray between them, hanging in the air as a static everyone else could feel too. 

No, it didn't matter. 

There was something deep between them, a sort of fire that had started years ago, kindled by bottles of wine, secrets of another life and ultimately gestures of comfort, and it hadn't yet burned out. He knew Hawke had a reputation for helping everybody around him--it was why he had came to him himself. And what had he done for him? Completely eradicated the last remnants of the ghosts of a life past, fought and killed, badly, any other humans sent for him, listened to every single word he said when Fenris could manage to talk about it, never feeling pressured but instead compelled, as he usually did. When he could bring himself to share some tid-bit, it always made him feel a bit sick, but he couldn't shake the feeling it was important for Hawke to know, though the man always told him it was his choice to share or not share as much as he wanted. 

Even during the time they had spent apart, Hawke had began to teach him how to read, the both of them staying up into late hours of the night as they sat by the fireplace in Hawke’s rather extravagant room. He had offered Fenris a place to stay that wasn't an abandoned mansion in shambles so many times, he had lost count--but he had taken enough from the man. Still, he enjoyed their lessons together, and was always concentrating much too hard to look at Hawke and see the fondness in his eyes, how he smiled a little as he watched Fenris sound out words. His hands shook while they tried to form letters, fingers that were steady and confident when wrapped around the pommel of a greatsword almost the same size as he, but unsure when trying to find their place around an ink-saturated quill.

The love the man felt for him was still there, had never left. Fenris knew that, because he could feel it. But there was something else there now, too, he could feel it as Hawke fucked him with his fingers, rocking his own hips forward and pressing his length against Fenris’s thigh, as much a promise as anything else. It hadn't escaped the elf that the man was still fully dressed, and it had worried him at first. When he let out a loud moan and arched his back, Hawke had stilled for a moment before withdrawing his fingers and pushing Fenris back onto the bed. The elf barely had time to adjust to the sudden loss before he felt the weight of a body on top of his, his wrists gathered into a strong hand and pinned above him. 

“You're my everything,” Hawke suddenly said, bringing his head down low to kiss along Fenris’s jawline, his neck, his collarbones. He arched his back and gasped when Hawke’s lips found a nipple and sucked, practically squirming beneath the larger man. He was leaking now, cock throbbing, wanting nothing more than for the man to simply fill him again.

“Hawke--”

“You’re mine,” Hawke said, calmly, almost distantly, beginning to kiss his way back up the man’s body and pausing at his neck, kissing there deceptively sweetly before latching onto the flesh there, sucking and nipping until he pulled away to reveal a dark, wet bruise on a part of his neck that’d been left free of the brands. Maybe it was small, but the bruise was Hawke’s, and anyone who saw would know.

The words left little to misinterpretation, but though Hawke sounded firm and resolute, he did not sound threatening, or forceful. Only factual.

“You are your own person--you can stray as far as you like. You can break me into as many pieces as you like,” Hawke began again, Fenris gasping as he was flipped as Hawke rotated their positions, so Hawke was leaning back against the pillows and Fenris straddling him. The human man trailed a hand down Fenris’s chest again, appreciating the way his back arched with his movement down his body. He looked hungry, like a man starved, as he brought his hand up to rest on the side of Fenris’s face. “But as long as you have me in your heart you’ll always be mine, and I yours.” 

Fenris placed a hand atop of Hawke’s larger one, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m yours, Hawke,” he all but panted, his body absolutely aching for more touch, more contact with the man. “I never stopped. I think you know it too.”

Hawke dragged his thumb over the elf’s lower lip with one hand as the other finally began to work his cock out of his trousers, undoing the leather belt of his pants and pushing them down only enough to free himself. Fenris almost licked his lips at the sight of it once it was out, standing tall and large and almost painfully erect, head red and angry and glistening. He knew it wasn’t ingrained obedience that was making his body react that way, it was purely Hawke, and how much he wanted him, wanted to be made whole with him again. He watched as Hawke emptied the remnants of the vial of oil on his cock, pumping his hand along its length to make sure it was slick all over. Fenris reached back, wasting no time in lining up the man’s slippery cock with his hole, moaning when the bulbous head pushed up against his entrance. 

“I do, now,” Hawke said, groaning lowly as Fenris began his descent on his cock, almost dazed as the tightness of Fenris’s body washed over him, starting at his manhood and flooding all his nerves. He let Fenris adjust at his own pace, waiting patiently until he was fully seated on him, legs spread wide, brown face growing red and moans spilling from his lips when he wasn’t panting. Hawke himself was careful not to move, only watched the elf with hooded eyes as he began to bounce up and down on Hawke’s lap once the familiar pain of accepting him had subsided into something else, hands once again on his pauldrons to help balance himself as he fucked himself on Hawke’s cock. Moans left the both of them as Fenris sped up his pace, gyrating his hips before not too long in frustration. Hawke had known it wouldn’t be enough for either of them, and waited until Fenris was practically whining on his dick and looking at him with pleading eyes. 

“Please, Hawke,” the elf gritted through his teeth, a desperosity tinging his voice that made it sound so sweet to the older man’s ears. “Take me. Make me yours.”

In an instant the elf was flipped onto his belly, a wide, broad chest pressing into his small back and forcing his body low. Hawke gathered his wrists in one hand and held them behind the small of Fenris’s back before re-entering the elf in one thrust and claiming him as he should have long ago.

Fenris practically groveled, started begging Hawke for something he couldn’t quite make out through his moans and whimpers as he fucked him with all the force of a stormy ocean, his thrusts constant and almost unforgiving in their power. All Fenris could do was stay still and allow himself to be overcome by it, dominated by the push and pull of the tidal wave that was his lover. 

But he knew with Hawke he’d never drown.

When the man in question had released his grasp on Fenris’s wrists to hold him down by the back of his neck instead, Fenris lost what little self-respect he’d tried to preserve for himself. He mewled and began to rock his hips back to meet the onslaught of Hawke’s thrusts, vision going hazy when the thick head of human cock began to graze that spot inside him, the one that always made him see stars. It didn’t take long at all for Fenris’s back being to bow in a deep arch, the beginnings of an orgasm starting to overtake him. Hawke must have noticed, because he released Fenris’s neck in favor for reaching between his legs, managing to give one firm tug on his cock before Fenris was crying out, spilling himself onto the sheets. The sounds the elf made combined with the way his ass clenched around his cock as he came had Hawke moaning, tilting his head back a little as he smacked Fenris’s ass again, this time a bit harder, managing to pump into him a few more times before he snapped his hips forward and stilled, cum surging from him and into his lover. 

He didn’t pull out for a few minutes, instead electing to stay like that, his body on top of Fenris, seated inside of him, for a few moments, bracing his hands on either side of the elf and kissing from his neck, down his shoulders and back. When he did pull out, he immediately scooped the elf into his arms, feeling his own cum leak out of Fenris and onto both of their thighs where they lay entangled in one another. Fenris was trying to catch his breath where he lay, his head rested on Hawke’s chest, Hawke with his arms placed protectively around Fenris, both of them complete messes but utterly each other’s. 

They stayed wordless for a while, until Fenris pulled back enough in Hawke’s grasp to kiss the man again, relishing in the feel of thick fingers running through the hair on his scalp as he did. “Nothing will keep me from you again,” the elf said quietly once the kiss broke, green eyes staring into brown. “Except perhaps a bath. Unless you’d like to accompany me… it is your estate, after all.”

Hawke smiled then, chuckling lowly as he ghosted his fingertips over his skin again, as he had in the beginning, when he’d felt so nervous. That almost felt like a lifetime ago too, and now, everything was righted, things were just as they should be and it was like a fog was lifted from around him, enabling him to see clearly again for the first time in years. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to accompany you, so Carver doesn’t walk in for a midnight soiree only to faint when he sees your beautiful self there first.” 

Fenris laughed as Hawke kissed him again, before throwing the covers off them both and scooping the elf in his arms, foreheads pressed together and eyes almost doe-like with love and admiration as he carried them to the bath. 

Suddenly, Hawke couldn’t remember why he’d been so nervous.


End file.
